Saving Tally (last Book 6) Jacobs Broken Mercenaries

chapter 4

Tally

I hate him with every fiber of my being. I hate the suits he wears. His smug expression. The way he talks and his dumb white teeth when he smiles. 
Is it really my fault? No! I can’t think like that. He’s twisting words, trying to look innocent when I know he’s not. He had to have known the ring would kill the person holding it. 
Should we have done more research? Is the ring even the reason Jace died?
Pulling at my hair, I lean against the outside of my locked door. 
It was so simple just minutes ago. I had my villain. The answer was black and white. Now, all I see is gray, and it’s making me sick to my stomach. I can’t even leave because the moment I step outside, I could either be eaten, frozen to tiny bits, or worse. This is truly hell, and Lucifer is my puppet master.
Who was I kidding? Like anything goes the way I expect.  You’d think I’d know better by now. 
I never stood a chance against Lucifer. Even with years of practice, my power is wonky. Only when I’m calm do I have complete control.  When Lucifer is around, I barely have control over my speech, let alone my powers.
Tough, cold, and uncaring these are the things I need to become. 
After trying several doors, it becomes apparent he’s either picked my room without consulting me or he wants me uncomfortable.  I humor him only because sleeping without a locked door between us is not an option.  Yeah, sure, he could easily unlock any room I occupy, but odds are I’ll hear it and have time to defend myself. 
Curling my lip at his creative torture. I climb the winding staircase to carefully check the doors on the floor he occupies. I longingly gaze at the library. The last thing I want to do is give the impression I like it here even though I do, inside anyway.  It’s quiet until Lucifer comes around. 
The last time I saw him, he was downstairs, but I know he can teleport. I wouldn’t put it past him to pop up just to torture me further.
Pet! 
I hate that word. And I’ve never hated something as simple as a word, but he has that special way about him to make it possible. There are only two doors up here? The library takes half the space, then there are two doors on either side of the other half. They must be single apartments.  Why have fourteen rooms and only one other person aside from yourself? Actually, I think he has a maid I haven’t seen. Someone made my bed last week, and Lucifer was gone. Still, that’s four people, me included.  What’s with the house?
I turn the knob on the right, shocked when it opens. I’m expecting to see corpses, heads on sticks, and gruesomely tortured or murdered women. Possibly a bed of bones. I’m sure this is the devil’s room. Instead, I see a luxurious room made up of dark reds. The lightest is the borders being a mix of scarlet and burnt orange… like his wings. The walls are the deepest red I’ve ever seen. They’re nearly black. There're no windows in this room either. Maybe that’s a security thing in hell. The fireplace in this room is four times the size of my previous quarters, which makes sense because so is the room. There are paintings of fire and nudes in awkward positions, how tasteful I think sarcastically.
In the center of the room is a large bed covered in red silk draped over a sleigh footboard bigger than a small car. On top of that bed is a familiar-looking suitcase. My eyes narrow as I walk toward it. I open it up slowly, unsure of what to expect. 
It’s my things. Clothing, the small stuffed pig Jacob gave me when I first came to live with him and my diary. Why would he do this? Did he go back? How? Then it dawns on me. He didn’t. Jacob sent these things with me. He just neglected to tell me. For three weeks! 
I’ve had to wash my clothing in the freaking tub while wearing a sheet! He is such an inconsiderate asshole! I drop the pig on the bed and walk toward another door in the center of the room. It’s locked, but there’s a peephole. I look in through the small circle. This must be his room because I’m staring at a bed even bigger than mine with black sheets, the color of his heart, just not shriveled. 
I have two very important questions. Does he seriously expect me to sleep while he’s this close? And what the hell is with the peephole?
After jamming a chair under the door and hanging a pillowcase over the peephole. I change into a soft blue sweater and my favorite black leggings. You don’t realize how simple things make a world of difference until you lose them. Just having my clothes feels like a luxury.
“Did you seriously think that would stop me?”
I tense at the sound of his voice. He’s got some nerve. I’m standing in front of the ridiculously sized bathing room and watch him drag a finger along the footboard of the bed. I didn’t think he’d go as far as to invade what’s supposed to be my personal space, but why wouldn’t I expect that. He has no decency. 
“Get out.” I growl, feeling a lot like a cornered animal right now.
“Do you like it?” he asks. I smile at the thought of offending him in any way.
“I despise everything here. You, the most.”
My opinion doesn’t seem to affect him. He doesn’t even respect me enough to look at me when I’m talking to him.
“Except the library. I know you like that.” He says while lifting the lid of my suitcase to peer inside.
Has he been spying on me?
“I don’t read.” I lie. Hoping to get rid of him.
“Just write?” he says while tossing my diary onto the bed. If he snooped, stealing my personal thoughts, I will get back at him in a way that torments him for the rest of his life. 
Now he looks at me. His gaze is so intense I reflectively swallow. With a suddenly dry throat. He has the look of the devil. All suave and come hither so I can bite your freaking head off and pick my teeth with your bones. No thanks.
“I know the prophecy. You will be my end… I don’t believe in prophecies. They’re more of a possibility.  They can be twisted in such a way that they become more context than outcome. Let’s start over, Tallisa. Bury the hatchet, as the humans say.”
Ha, is he serious? Prophecy or not, the first chance I get to stab his icy heart, I’m taking it.
“So you want me to forget everything and what?… Try to be friends?”
“Exactly.”
He’s insane. Does he truly believe that’s possible? Can he not see the murderous anger seeping from my pores every time I look at him?
“Your anger is misplaced. I can forgive it, but I won’t offer the option up again.”
I take a deep breath, ready to let him have it, and as if he’s expecting it, he interrupts me.
“Be mindful of how you respond and remember, I hold all the power. You could be happy here or stay miserable. It’s all up to you.”
He’s not giving me a choice. It’s a warning. Play nice, or I’ll make you wish you had. I want to tell him to shove it. That his threats don’t scare me, but he hasn’t shown me his dark side yet, and I’m sure it’s pitch black. 
He’ll always be my enemy, but do I want him to be expecting my retribution? or is my only chance a sneak attack? I think this one goes without saying.  If I want revenge, it’s got to be as the saying goes; keep your friends close and your enemies closer. 
This whole thing is pointless. Even if I agree, he’s not going to believe me. I spring for honesty.

“Whatever, it’s not like I have an actual choice.” 
His eyes narrow before he asks; 
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” I say grudgingly while rolling my eyes.
“Good, now that we’re friends. Let us exchange favors.”
He claps his hands and grins happily. What is he up to? 
“Mine is quite simple and is something you do, anyway. Eat dinner with me every evening. Don’t be late. Have on proper attire; something nice, maybe red and be pleasant. Do this without argument, and I’ll do something for you, anything you ask within reason.”
Why? What does he get out of that? Maybe he wants to poison me? Na, if he wanted me dead, he wouldn’t go through the trouble of poison. I’d already be dead. Hmmm, let’s think about this. See his face on the daily? And eat during to boot. Yeah, real simple. Maybe he realizes that’s difficult enough. I have a feeling he’d get his way somehow, and there’s one thing I want. If he agrees, so will I.
“If I do that, you will never enter this space. You will respect my boundaries and stop calling me pet!”
He laughs loudly, making me jump. 
“That’s two boons. I will not enter the room I gave you.”
He says the word gave with exaggeration, like I should be thankful when I had a perfectly fine room to begin with. Lucifer moves closer to me. The look in his eyes makes me uncomfortable. I can’t figure out what he’s thinking, but whatever it is, it’s not innocent in the least. 
“Unless you invite me. Pet.”
Is he hitting on me? Is that what this is about? He’s horny? Oh, hell no! I’ve got to be reading him wrong. He’s goading me and probably gets off on it. I nod, not taking the bait, and just like that; he disappears. I breathe a sigh of relief. Staying in a room with him for too long is difficult. I feel claustrophobic in his presence. Too much evil in a confined space would make anyone feel like they’re hyperventilating. 
I didn’t expect to be here this long, or I guess Lucifer to be here, but killing someone is not that simple. Especially the devil.  I was so obsessed with being the one to do it and not caring about the consequences. I didn’t think of logistics.  That must be what Jacob meant by being young and angry. I wasn’t really looking at anything clearly. I was just in a toxic loop of anger and the need for revenge.  In my mind, it was simple. I imagined the devil in a sleeping state as I show up and stab him through the heart before he wakes. I never gave much thought to the power and knowledge someone like that would yield. He’s always going to be a step ahead of me. Hell, he probably sleeps with one eye open.